


The Plum Stone and the Mother of Pearl

by QueenoftheRandomWord42



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1910s, Angst attempt with a happy ending, Bar Fight, Cute Ending, Fist Fights, Fluff and Angst, Good merman husbandry, Healing Powers, M/M, Merman!Bucky, Shanghaied Character, Shanghaied!AU, Stan Lee Cameo, merman au, poor merman husbandry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9057499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheRandomWord42/pseuds/QueenoftheRandomWord42
Summary: Inspired by a picture by riakomi for the Stucky Secret Santa 2016 Gift exchange.Bucky was a captured Merman held captive by the ship Hydra, captained by the Captain Johann Schmidt, and his lieutenant Arnim Zola.Steve was a down on his luck sailor who wound up being shanghaied on to the ship after a bar fight.Now the two different beings who must work together to regain their freedom, but they must hurry.The clock is ticking.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Riakomai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riakomai/gifts).



> Inspired by the drawing by http://riakomai.tumblr.com/post/153906355804/i-had-a-dream-some-time-back-about-merman-bucky  
> This is my gift to http://riakomai.tumblr.com/ for the Stucky Secret Santa 2016 gift exchange.  
> This is also my first attempt at writing romance, or angst, so if you guys have any suggestions on how to improve I'd welcome it.

On the last day that Bucky saw his family, it had been an overcast day with an unremarkable start. The Hav-Mennsker people dwelt in the cool abysses of trenches and deep water for generations.  
The only reason why Bucky was even in such shallow water was because an unseasonal school of sardines had traveled past the trench the Barnes clan made their home, and with the days growing shorter and the water become less green and murky, the influx of food was a welcome relief before the lean times approached.  
Bucky paused and felt the water around him caress his skin and extend his hearing and touch to the water surrounding him. It was dark, but the low light was enough for Bucky to make out shapes ahead of him. His pale eyes were wide in the dark, collecting enough light that the silver shine in the back of the eyes made the shapes in the dark stand out a little sharper. His dark fish-like tail blended in the surrounding rock and held tight ready to spring forth.  
He felt the water next to him push and shiver next to him before he turned his head to see his younger sister Becca coast next to him before turning to look him in the eye and slowly nod.  
Bucky smirked and lifted up a fashioned net made of twisted kelp and cast offs from old ships. Becca simply grabbed the other end of the netting, holding two corners as the two began to move forward slowly.  
Using the low lights they moved slowly under the churning slow moving mass below cores, their dark tails pumping back and forth and with a burst of speed the siblings rose up, opened the net, and in practiced coordination engulfed the sardines and tightened the net closed. The rest of the fish darted away as if it were a giant dancing cloud and Bucky glanced at his sister, and Becca grinned. The sibling’s hands tightened around the mouth of the net and Becca pulled a tight cord of sinew from an old whale carcass and fastened the net closed.  
With a mighty heave, the siblings dragged the netting into shallower warmer waters, where their mother and the two youngest sisters awaited them.  
“Bucky, Becca, you’re back, and you caught the sardines,” Ma called out to them, eyeing the net with surprised relief, which told the siblings more about their father’s sea bird hunt and younger sisters’ foraging escapade in the brackish estuary than the simple sentence alone.  
It was time to season the fish inside.  
“Becca, you and Ruth get the tools, Betsy baby, look at me,” Ma paused to coach her youngest fry, just four green seasons old. Betsy’s round baby face glanced up and glanced at her mother with curious seriousness while her fins twitched back and forth with her arms behind her back, her shoulders rocking like the waves of a tide. “Betsy I need to you look out for selkies, they will want to steal our seasoned fish, and we can’t have that.”  
“No they can’t, we need those fish for the lean moons!” Betsy protested.  
Ma reassured her with a gentle press of her forehead to Betsy’s “And they won’t if you watch for them. Or the Kranins which will—“  
“Ma, they’re already heading out to the open waters during the season,” Bucky interrupted.  
“And for interrupting me, your brother has squid bait duty.”  
Bucky knew better than to protest. He didn’t want squid bait duty for life.  
Ma passed the tools to her children as Becca reached into the net a few fish at the time and with a special rod shaped rock, carefully bashed the sardines in the back of the head for a swift, humane kill. The humane rod was a carefully shaped stone after generations of carving and polishing with sand, made for a special tool to kill the sardines without stressing them, as the stress affected the flavor of the fish and invited evil spirits from above to hunt in this safe haven.  
Afterwards she’d pass the fish to Bucky, who would with a specially sharpened shell, slice the fish’s body from neck to vent and scoop and scrape out any of the fish’s entrails. The slimy entrails were then packed into a few old emptied seal stomachs, which had been emptied and preserved to contain the squid bait. This was the most disgusting but vital part of the chore, as the entrails were prized bait for Grandmother’s annual squid hunt, for when the seasoned fish run low and there are still moons of the lean season to go.  
Ruth then grabbed a seasoned fish from last year and would the anoint each of the new seasoned fish, sliced opened and flat before stuffing them into a large kelp bag and sewn tight.  
After a few days in the warm water under the bright light of the sun, the fish would season, and when bubbles would stop leaking out of the seams, then the seasoned fish were ready to be transported back into the trench where the cold water and pressure of the sea above would keep the food from rot and keep the clan alive until the sun turned the water green and fertile attracting fresh food back to the sea above the trench.  
Pacing above the workstation alcove was Betsy, scanning the water for opportunistic seals, sea-lions, and their more crafty and cunning brethren the selkies. Twice already the child has to shout and bang two rocks together before a sleek dark and silver form had to dart away from the kelp bags containing the seasoned fish.  
Ma, on the other hand pitched in when she could, but she spent most of her time patrolling outside of Betsy’s vision, keeping an eye out for much graver threats, as she trusted her children to protect their food, but knew there were things that would target her children.  
For a moment, outside the alcove, a few of Bucky’s year-mates swam by. If the food collection hadn’t been so urgent, Bucky would have tried to finish squid bait duty as fast as he could so he could join his peers at dancing in the last of the sunlight light before the lean season drove them to the cold and dark, playing and if the right Hav-Mennsker caught his eye, courting.  
As friends with them he’d be satisfied but as a mate, well they weren’t the right partner At twenty five green seasons, Buck was more than old enough to leave and join his wife’s clan. But Ma and Pa needed the extra hands that Bucky could provide, and his sisters weren’t old enough to lure husbands of their own to share the work.  
A long low note started a song, and Bucky hear the daily mournful songs of the giant Wera, half merperson half giant whale who believed it was their duty to sing the spirits of the ancestors to peace and plead for a short lean season, to bless the shallow waters with their deathly cold but fertile waters that would make the water green and full of fish again.  
Of course the songs stopped when the hunting song of the Nastaline—half killer-whale half merperson—began to pick up tempo. Bucky slowed his breathing and nervously began to decode their song like Pa had taught him, and realizing that their higher pitches and fast tempo indicated that this pack was more interested in the easier to capture salmon which followed the sardines, their preferred prey. What sacred value the salmon held was lost on Bucky, but the “Sacred messengers from our ancestors of the land” was more than enough to make him weary of them.  
The elders were the first to curse the dangers that came from beyond the tide line. In this sea there were more than sharks and killer whales to bring about worry.  
The sun was at its highest point in the sky when the real change happened.  
Bucky could smell them before he could hear them, a sort of slow almost coppery tang that coated the nostrils, followed by the rhythmic thump-thump that caused a strong shudder down his entire body.  
For a moment he assumed that the Nastaline broke their sacred hunting song and had instead taken down a whale calf that wander too far from its pod, but the Wera did not begin singing the song of mourning, peppered with curses of vengeance. The Wera were peaceful, but woe betides anyone who messed with their sacred animals.  
No, this was something far more sinister.  
Ma looked up from the sardine net and directed her head to the source of the sound, and Bucky noticed his mother froze for a moment, but then she turned and glanced at her four children, and spurned to action as any invested parent could.  
“Buck, get your father, girls come go me!”  
Bucky didn’t need any questioning, so he reached down to grab the sardine net only to have his mother’s teeth clack sharply to get his attention.  
“Leave it; the sardines aren’t worth your life.”  
Bucky pulled his arms in and then turned to the surface where his father had been stalking some sea birds, attracted to the influx of sardines driven up by the Hav-Mennsker hunters.  
Pa appeared from the green murk with his crafted bone, stone and wood spear at the ready, taunt and poised to spear a bird when Bucky gave his teeth a strong click.  
Pa paused and startled glanced at his son.  
“Pa, something’s approaching! Ma wants everyone in the deep now!”  
Pa didn’t need telling twice. “Son, move!”  
Bucky turned and began to move when he heard the shrieks and terror cries and from the green came out of now where a rush of gigantic black and white bodies. The Nastaline pack was being pursued.  
Bucky ducked as swerved away from their path, but he wasn’t quick enough as a panicked concussive shock wave from one of the Nastaline’s tail stunned him dizzy.  
The thump-thump pattern had grown louder and the smell of bitter panic was growing intoxicating and disorienting. Then the copper tang of fresh blood began to fill Bucky’s nose and a massive explosion of pain in his own tail.  
The pain was intense, and about as hot as some of the thermal vents he heard his grandmother talk about with almost ancestral reverence. The pain was blinding and he could taste a bloody tang in his mouth where he must have bitten his tongue.  
Instinctively he tried to dive, and the large pain in his tail made the usual movements difficult as if he was trying to swim in water that suddenly grew too thick to swim in and he felt a strong pull. Whatever evil was behind this did not seem to want to lose this prize.  
Bucky then began to feel the rope pull, and a second pain exploded on his other side and the dark shape and rhythmic thumping took over like the pulse of a giant, overtook and darkened the waters above them. The thing had a long dark streamlined shape and several limbs that appeared at the surface, pull the monster forward before rising above the water and appearing again. That was the source of the rhythmic thump-thumping.  
Bucky could see it approach and tried one final time to dive, but the pull was too strong, and his tail couldn’t take him anywhere.  
In desperation, Bucky tried to dive again, but the last of the ropes had shortened and Bucky found himself pulled to the side. In a final push for survival Bucky tried to reach round and pull out the spears, but it was too late. He was pulled out of the water and he was surprised to discover alien creatures on the monster’s back, and the monster itself was concave above the water’s surface.  
He heard the creatures bark and growl before another grabbed what looked like a wooden humane rod and like the sardines whack him across the back of his head. As the darkness began to fill his vision, and his conscious began to dive into the darkness.  
***  
“What the hell is that thing Luskin?!”  
“I don’t care Rollins, but I know Zola would be willing to pay a pretty penny for it. Return to the Red Room, we need to contact the Hydra.”  
“Hail Hydra.”  
“Hail Hydra.”  
***  
“Dear Mr. Rogers,  
Thank you for your interest in the position on our steam ship, we are still open to accepting sailors and we’d be happy to have you join us on our scientific expedition, our researchers still need an artist to help with diagrams, and the portfolio you sent has met the approval of the ship’s medical doctor and our naturalists.  
As I understand it, your father was a decorated war hero who fought aside a Coronal Nicolas Fury, and as a family favor, his son Nicolas Fury Jr gave a glowing review to your character, and would be willing to bring you on board.  
Our Coronal Nicolas Fury Jr will be in town on the twenty seventh of November and would be willing to give you a ride when the ship arrives at port to refuel and resupply. He will also be visiting an old friend, an Alexander Pierce who owns the Triskelion Pub and was hoping you’d be willing to arrange a meeting with him there. If not he will be staying at the Hotel Insight and would be willing to pick you up there.  
I am looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Rogers.  
Welcome Aboard,  
Captain Margaret Carter, SSR Shield.”  
Steven Grant Rogers entered the Triskelion Pub on the twenty fifth of November, aware that he was two days early. Within moments he found a seat at the bar and ordered water, seeing as his travels and lack of previous lucrative jobs meant that was all he could afford at the moment.  
The other patrons were a wide variety to people from lumberjacks from the forests from miles around, sailors and dock workers from the harbor blocks away, to a few higher class men here for a drink and to discuss business. Few women wandered around, one or two were working women here for a drink, but most were prettily dressed and were mostly among the wait staff.  
The short skinny artist, in his slightly baggy old cotton shirt, brown pants held up by suspenders and old wool jacket, was easily overlooked by the other patrons of the pub as he began sketching the architecture inside, the crisp pale golden walls and warm myrtle wood bar and table tops.  
Steve had moved on from drawing the walls and eventually began drawing a rather well dressed gentile man, whose behavior of talking to the guests, the wait staff, and the bartender, and forthright charming manner lead Steve to assume was the Alexander Peirce mentioned in the letter he had stored in his pack at the much smaller inn a few blocks away.  
Steve glanced down at the drawing attempting to sketch the nose to his liking when he heard a voice in his ear.  
“Is that a portrait of me that you a drawing son?”  
Steve looked up, and instantly glanced up to see the taller blond gentleman was indeed the assumed Alexander Peirce.  
“It is if you want it to be,” Steve shrugged.  
“And I’d like it to be. Alexander Pierce,” Pierce said with a chuckle and stuck out his hand as he introduced himself.  
“Steve Rogers.”  
“Well met Mr. Rogers, so what brings you to my humble pub?”  
“I’m awaiting a new job; I’ve been told you are in the acquaintance with a Coronal Nicolas Fury?”  
“Oh Nick, yes Nick and I go way back to 1882, so what do you want with Nick?”  
“I’ve been informed that one of the ships he works with has an opening, and I wanted to talk to him about it,” Better not jinx himself and assume he has the job without meeting the man first.  
“You are looking for a job son?”  
“Yes sir.”  
“Well, I can see you are a polite well behaved young man, and if you ever need a job, I know people who would be happy to have an upstanding young man such as yourself on board their ships.”  
Steve blinked, it was awfully forward of the man, but if he needed to make a good impression with Fury, chances would he higher if he also made a good impression with his friend. “Thank you sir.”  
“Are you going to sign that?” Pierce finished pointing at the drawing.  
“Of course,” Steve replied before signing S.G. Rogers and then Pierce was called away by another customer and Steve moved onto another drawing.  
Two minutes later Steve was approached by a priest of all things. The elderly man had his mostly silver hair combed back with a few streaks of dark hair interwoven between it. His old face reminded Steve of an old basset hound he encountered once when he was younger, and the man’s large thick glasses making his eyes harder to see.  
“May I help you sir?” Steve’s mother taught him to be respectful to priests, god rest her old Irish soul.  
“I think the question is how may I help you?” The priest answered with a voice that reminded Steve of a croaking tree frog.  
Uhh….  
“Are you writing a letter to your mother by any chance?” The priest asked.  
Okay that was a little bewildering.  
“No, not quite, my mother passed a few years ago.”  
“Well, is there anyone you could write to?”  
“I don’t see how that’s any of—“  
“Son, there have been people disappearing in the area lately, and for your own safety I’d recommend making sure there’s someone looking out for you,” The priest interrupted with a fierce whisper, leaning forward to make sure Steve could hear him. Steve, the good little catholic boy his ma raised, tilted his good ear to the man.  
“Disappearances?” Steve asked, and the priest nodded. “Well, I do have someone I’m meeting with. I’ll forward a letter to him, shall I?”  
“I’m on my way to the post office after this, would you like me to drop it off there?”  
Steve raised an eyebrow in surprise, but decided he’d obey the priest for now, and then quickly drafted a quick letter.  
“11/25/1912  
Dear Coronal Fury,  
I wanted to write to let you know that I have made it safely to the Triskelion Pub, and I wanted to contact you to tell you that I would be happy to accept the job on board the steamship Shield, for the expedition mentioned by a Captain Margaret Carter.  
I met Mr. Pierce today; he seemed like a very friendly man. He mentioned that you two go way back to 1882.  
I am looking forward to speaking with you in person.  
Steve G. Rogers.”  
And with that Steve signed the letter, and with the stamp and envelope the priest passed to him added the address to the Hotel Insight and passed sealed the letter.  
“Thank you son and you stay safe,” The priest replied as he grabbed the letter and left.  
There were a few moments later another group of young men entered the bar, and while Steve grew up in a poorer district on another city and was used to people of different colors and backgrounds, one of the other customers apparently weren’t.  
When the men walked in, the dark skinned one approached the bar, pressing the bills forward so they could order. “Excuse me sir, but may I please have five pints of beer?” But the bartender only turned away with a cold shoulder, and Steve wasn’t going to accept that.  
“Hey! You’re ignoring some customers!” Steve spoke up.  
“None of your damn business, kid!” the bartender snapped.  
“I for one do not want to drink where blacks and Asians show their damn face!” a large burly man randomly snapped. He began to loom over the group as if his sheer size, his arms lifting as if ready to provide physical violence to prove his point.  
When the group refused to move, the Burly-man said a foul racist slur and attempted to shove the black man at the bar.  
Sarah Rogers used to swear that her son came into the world angry and ready to pick a fight, and what happened next would never dissuade anyone of that opinion.  
“You shut up! They didn’t do anything to you!” Steve stood up to challenge him.  
Things escalated quickly from there.  
Steve swung first, his right hook winding up and decked the looming man right in the face. His fist bounced off the chin, but the large man’s attention was now on Steve.  
Steve was lucky enough to catch sight of the man’s return swing to duck and weave out of the way, but unfortunately had ducked into the path of one of the burly man’s friends who had been sitting at the table behind Steve. Steve didn’t see them get up.  
Nor did Steve see the Burly-man accidently knock out the racist bartender.  
What he did feel however was the sensation of Burly-man’s buddy socking him in the left cheek. Steve was knocked by the blow back to the bar to which Steve unintentionally bounced off of it.  
“Is that all you’ve got?” Steve chirped before launched an offensive of his own. He aimed his left foot out for a kick and the man shouted as his shin was hit, causing the man to shift his weight, and Steve tried to hit him with his left fist.  
It was then he heard something creak behind him and all he saw as he turned to face it was what looked like a chair being lifted up and swung at his face, before bright stars filled his vision, the pain blossoming white hot across his face, and black filled his vision before his mind registered hitting the floor, then nothing.  
***  
“What have you got for me today Herr Pierce?”  
“Ah Mr. Schmidt, I’m so glad you could make it, here I have a fine selection of men for your ship and these ‘legal’ documents with their signature saying they are going on board your ship.”  
“Excellent. What about that one? It seems rather scrawny.”  
“Ah, that one’s the cabin boy; trust me no one will be looking for him.”  
“Hmm… Very well, I’ll take them all, including the cabin boy.”  
“It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Schmidt.”  
“Hail Hydra.”  
“Hail Hydra.”  
***  
Steve awoke to a terrible cold, covered in dirt and river silt from old underground passageways, and could smell fresh salty air. The seagulls from a distance sounding unnervingly faint and he heard the sound of waves being broken up by a ship’s hull as the ship moved further and further away from shore. Steve, barefoot and without any of his possessions except for the clothes on his back, was in rather dire straits.  
Steve no idea which direction the ship was sailing nor the distance and direction of shore, and Steve suspected that he missed meeting Coronel Fury, he rolled over and caught a glimpse of the fellow men on the ship. Right next to him, not looking pretty at all was the large burly bigot and his friends from the bar, and not the interracial group that Steve was defending.  
The rest of the group was waking up when footsteps on the ship’s deck snapped up everyone’s attention.  
“Welcome aboard the Hydra,” Said a sleek dark haired man with a crisp, oily voice, and a German accent, he elegantly prowled his way toward the seven men who were pulling themselves to their feet, or else had the crew, rough and tumble men, that Steve just noticed now, yank the men onto their feet, the black haired man with a grizzled beard with a black outfit with white crossing scuff marks across his front was extra hard on Steve’s bicep. “Gentlemen, I am your captain Johann Schmidt. And from this day forth you are to serve this vessel.”  
Shit! Suddenly Steve understood what happened to the missing men, and realized that not only had he missed his meeting with Fury, but now he was stuck on board this ship as property of the ship’s captain, and if he survived the trip, he’d be forced to be stranded at the ship’s destination, where ever that was, and would have to find a route back home, and by then it’d be too late for him to bring the captain of this ship, or the god damned crimper who kidnapped him be brought to justice.  
“I run a tight ship, if you do not obey what I or my crew say; I will not hesitate to see that you are killed, beaten, whipped, or keelhauled….” Then Schmidt paused and looked closely at Steve.  
Steve knew he wasn’t the picture of health, small, skinny and asthmatic; the tall dark haired man took one good look at him, and muttered about how Steve was a disgrace.  
“Today, we will begin by swabbing the deck, and you will begin now. Rumlow, you will supervise, hand out punishments as you see fit.”  
The man holding Steve tightly gave Steve and his fellow captives a savage grin. “Well,” Rumlow rasped “you heard the captain. Get to work.”  
And so, Steve was forced to swab the deck with his fellow captives, spreading the horrific smelling tar over the wooden planks to ensure that the deck stayed waterproof. In less than ten minutes Steve learned the identity of the other fellow captives. The Burly man who Steve punched at the bar was named Gilmore Hodge.  
William Burnside, one of Hodge’s friends tried to jab at Steve using the mop handle, and Steve dodged and jabbed back.  
“Knock it off!” Rumlow barked out.  
Steve glared at Rumlow.  
Rumlow raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Steve began to march over to Rumlow before Hodge had tripped Steve with his mop and Steve sprawled on the deck at Rumlow’s feet, and Rumlow muttered “That’s it.”  
Steve felt the front of his shirt rip as Rumlow grabbed Steve by the scruff of the shirt and Steve was dragged under the deck into the ship interior below.  
***  
The world shifted and the water around Bucky seemed to slosh around him when Bucky regained consciousness. He groaned and opened his eyes, the rocking sensation causing him to become very aware of the location of his stomach and its proximity to his mouth.  
The large black metal tub he was contained in made the water hum and ring unpleasantly. He barely had enough room to swim around in a circle and could easily grab his tail. That was if he could swim.  
His tail was in pain and felt hot, and other parts seemed quite numb in other places. He tried to move it, but the sharp streaks down his tail like jagged rocks were scraping down his tail. The pain was so strong; he resorted to using his arms to move himself around the enclosed tub. Bucky tried to apply his healing saliva onto the large wounds on his tail, but the disgusting water counted the effects of his people’s mild healing abilities.  
And the water around him was quite putrid, with a strong almost salty briny fishy smell that reminded Bucky too much of some of the remains of dead animals he’s encountered since he was a fry. The water actually began to grow a little cloudy, causing his vision to blur under water.  
The water was enough to make his chest burn with every inhalation. He’s resorted to breathing air instead of water for the past week. It was better than breathing the death water he was left to stew in.  
What he didn’t realize, as his gills inside his internal lungs were shifted to little air sacs of his human ancestors, which as he was attempting to partially shift to stay alive.  
Needing another breath, Bucky reached to the edge of the tub and pulled his head above the surface, and his eyes glazed over the surrounding vibrant brown walls with long horizontal bits tightly stacked on top of each other, the walls and the identical bottom would occasionally creak and moan, on top of the distant familiar sounds of the sea that made Bucky feel heart sick. Now and then, he would feel the world shift and tilt, tried to gaze ahead at one stationary spot.  
The room was illuminated by a strange narrow bubble shaped object that emitted a bright but flickering inconstant light. The light bubble appeared to be attached to a holdfast on the sealing with a weird interlocked metallic stipe, and slightly sway with the strange space that unfortunately also made Bucky a little dizzy, causing the familiar dark shadows to pace and dance.  
Around the room, causing more of the dancing shadows, where what looked like strangely angular drift wood squares, and nets and strings along the walls with strange glistening instruments that Bucky tried not to look too much, as already he remembered those objects only causing more pain for his tail.  
He shuddered and tried to avoid looking at the instruments, when he heard a rhythmic clunck-clunck that meant that other strange creature approached. Bucky inhaled a lungful of air and sank slightly back in the death water.  
The portal at the end of the room to Bucky’s left swung open, and the creature that Bucky associated with the sound “Rumlow” was man handling a strange smaller creature.  
Bucky didn’t really care for Rumlow. But Bucky did notice that he unnerved and slightly intimidated Rumlow. Then the smaller creature made a strange huffing sound, and began to squirm to its feet.  
At first glance they were the same strange shape as Rumlow, it had the appropriate upper half like all the other mer-creatures Bucky had seen, but it looked more like some horrific accident happened to split the tail and remove the fins. On this one, there were no strange appendage coverings like what Rumlow had, and instead the smaller creature’s strange limbs ended in what looked like pale pink seal flippers, only with tinier toes and no sharp nails. Its hair, which had a texture much like Bucky’s own hair, only much shorter, closer to the scalp and reminded Bucky of some bright yellow fish from warmer shallow waters of a coral reef.  
The creature grunted, and shifted position, and those little flippers were placed to best hold their weight in this strange heavy world. It took an aggressive stance toward Rumlow, and barked out a challenge. In response, Rumlow made more aggressive bark noises and in a gesture familiar to Bucky, swung his fist into the other creature’s middle, and the creature collapsed to the ground.  
Bucky paused; there was no way that thing was getting up.  
Except Bucky wasn’t good at guessing its behavior, the small creature, wobbly and weaving, got back up, and took up the aggressive posture again. It barked something that Bucky could imagine it saying “I could do this all day!”  
And Bucky had enough.  
He exhaled and inhaled deeply and heaved.  
With the grace of a fish out of water, Bucky’s face hit the bottom of the room and his tail somersaulted over the edge of the tub, and with some quick thinking, difficult because the tail was stiff, but angled to hit Rumlow on the back.  
The look on Rumlow’s face said it all, as it had gone pale and startled. And the sound of another clunk-clunk was enough to drive the bully away. Bucky was glad that was all it took to drive him away, outside the water his limbs were heavy, even if all the time he spent breathing outside the water was enough for his arms to adjust to the tiring weight above the water.  
The small creature turned, in nervous confusion. Bucky shot him a gentle and cocky grin from the floor, as if to say “Sure showed him.”  
Bucky saw now that the creature had dark bruises all over its face, one of its eyes swollen with one large bruise.  
Nervously the creature approached Bucky.  
Brave and compassionate, that was something Bucky did admire.  
Drawing back on several years of tending to his sister’s wounds, without thinking, Bucky licked his hand and smeared his healing saliva all over the bruised eye like a soothing balm.  
However instead of scowling like Becca, or affectionately brushing his hand away like Ruth, or softly smiling and seeking Bucky’s offer of comfort like Betsy, there was a squawk of disgust and he attempted to wipe the healing balm off.  
“Hey, don’t do that!” Bucky protested and tried to pull the hand away from the eye.  
It looks like it might need a stronger application, so Bucky spat onto his hand and reapplied the saliva back onto the bruises, and felt the healing powers do their work  
“Hey!” the creature protested and Bucky backed off.  
“Sorry, but it needed to heal!” Bucky protested.  
“Heal?!”  
Another side of effect of a healing session, it created a temporary empathetic healing bond, the kind that lasted until the patient was fully healed, and this increased his people’s gift of gab. Tales were told that even others of different races could talk in the Hav-Mennsker’s language afterwards.  
“Well yeah, unless you wanted to impress others with a mangled face, than go ahead.”  
“Next time ask me before you do that!”  
“Alright, sorry, I’ll ask next time.”  
Then the other creature paused and looked at Bucky like Bucky had spontaneously changed form.  
“Wait, you can speak?”  
“Wait and you can’t?” Bucky replied sarcastically.  
The creature scowled, “very funny, jerk.”  
Bucky snickered, and playfully nudged the smaller creature. “What should I call you? I’m called ‘Bucky’.”  
“Steve.” Steve responded with a weak smile. Bucky got to see his pale eyes gaze back, now that they weren’t obscured by old bruises. Bucky smiled back.  
***  
Steve remembered tales his mother had told him about some of the fairy of her childhood, but nothing seemed to compare to the real thing.  
The closest thing Steve could associate with Bucky was the ugly fish like Marrow, of course female Marrow were small half fish half beautiful woman. Bucky however with his strong pectoral muscles and clearly mild fishy features in his face, suggested that perhaps all the tales weren’t as accurate.  
Steve’s mother had told him about the healing kisses male merfolk could bestowal on those of the pure of heart, and after their first squabble, Bucky hasn’t tried healing him without permission. The kissing was just something in the folk tales apparently.  
Of course that had been two days ago, after Steve had to heave and shove Bucky back into the tub to prevent him from drying out.  
Steve scrambled back on deck, looking appropriately battered, finished swabbing the deck, scrubbing pots and pans from the galley, peeling potatoes, and ducking Rumlow or his fellow conscripts’ attention. Steve did his jobs and gritted his teeth, awaiting his chance to strike back. There were moments where Steve tried to have a creative interpretation of any order that Steve found distasteful.  
Now he was going to sneak back and check in on Bucky.  
When Steve reentered the room, he realized something he had missed, the room stank of fish and piss, and Bucky was stuck in the piss bucket that was a whale oil bin.  
Bucky, the brown haired, slightly pale man half peered over the bin before pulling himself more up to hold eye contact with rich blue eyes.  
“Hey there,” Bucky called out weakly.  
It was then Steve realized that Bucky wasn’t as strong as he had assumed. Steve ran up to the bin.  
The water was disgusting and underneath, what might have once been a dark blue tail was whittled with large red wounds with grey fuzz growing out of them. Steve would have liked to free Bucky, but Bucky was too big and too heavy for Steve to carry off without getting detected by Rumlow or Captain Schmidt.  
But there was one thing Steve could do.  
“Want some fresh water?” Steve asked.  
Bucky’s eyes brighten desperately, and Steve gabbing two buckets, collected two buckets worth of dirty water and began to sneak into the center hallway out of Bucky’s room, down the hallway past two rooms, one of which was the Galley and up the stairs and to the stern of the ship before he snuck to the hidden corner of the ship to dump the buckets. He spotted a net a few yards to his left, and was about to grab the rope when he heard a sound.  
It turned out one of the mops had fallen over, acting fast and silently Steve tied the rope onto the bucket and he filled it and the second one and snuck back down to Bucky’s room. Steve heard Rumlow approach as he ducked into Bucky’s room and he froze until Rumlow’s footsteps fade.  
Bucky looked up and smiled at the sight of Steve.  
“Here,” Steve offered the bucket, and Bucky drank, looking slightly better, but still a little sick. Steve poured the other bucket into Bucky’s tank.  
“Thanks,” Bucky whispered.  
Steve ran off to change more water.  
***  
Time passed and Bucky wasn’t sure how much had passed since Bucky had saw his family, but he had seen Steve for a total of seventeen times since their first meeting.  
Besides Steve, Bucky’s time had been filled with the dull room, the dancing shadows long since lost interest, and pain as Bucky tried heal the injuries. The toxic water hindered all progress, and Bucky was beginning to feel cold and shivery and while he hadn’t eaten much.  
His beautiful fins were beginning to become ragged, and a black crust began to form at the jagged edges, slowly eroding the membrane. Bucky had heard stories of these diseases, but it had just been that, stories.  
And Bucky couldn’t see the wounds, but judging by Steve’s worried looks, and the loss of a few tail scales, they were getting worse.  
Steve tried to help, in fact when Steve got the chance; he’d change a few buckets of dirty water to fresh, but had gotten caught and would have been beaten if it hadn’t been for the lucky chance of Zola coming on board the ship.  
Zola was about as small as Steve, but much rounder and stockier, with a thin glassy object on his face that made his eyes appear much larger than any other human Bucky had come across. The man eyed Bucky more like Bucky was some sort of tender morsel between two clam shells than anything else.  
Bucky hated that look.  
Zola also spent time eyeing Bucky’s tail, making cold tutting noises and even talked to the captain Schmidt about his tail in hushed voices, and Bucky unable to do much pouted and glared at the men. All that earned him however was a few whacks on the head and back for the insolence.  
Steve thankfully had been forgotten with Zola’s arrival.  
That might have been the only good thing to come out of that however.  
Bucky felt himself getting weaker, and unfortunately even with Steve’s help, Bucky was too large and heavy for the tiny man to sneak out and over the side of the ship, and Bucky was too weak to fend for himself in the open ocean at this point.  
So instead he decided he’d do what he could to help Steve instead.  
Today, Steve had snuck in after hours; Bucky could see new bruises and saw tears in the back of his shirt where men like Rumlow had enacted retribution on slights, real and imagined. Fortunately Steve found a spare pair of foot coverings somewhere, and that seemed enough to protect his feet.  
Bucky licked his thumb to heal the bruises, but unfortunately he couldn’t reach very well.  
“It’s alright Bucky, I’m fine,” Steve muttered gently brushing Bucky’s hand away. The empathetic bond had faded with the first batch of bruises but Steve retained the ability to speak with the mer-people, something Bucky didn’t mind as it meant he had someone else to talk to.  
Steve grabbed the buckets and began to change the water, but paused when he looked at Bucky. Bucky saw the grim look in Steve’s eyes, followed by frustration at his own helplessness at Bucky’s condition.  
Bucky reached over and gave Steve a one armed hug for comfort, and Steve, with his shirt covered in a large wet spot left the room.  
Bucky, smiling softly, and eager for Steve to return didn’t realize he had drifted off to a fitful sleep until the door opened again, and two sets of loud footsteps interrupted Bucky’s sleep.  
“It’s miraculous he’s survived this long out of the ocean, Captain,” Angrily squeaked a voice and Bucky glanced up to see that it was Zola. He tensed and saw that Captain Schmidt was standing right next to him.  
“Indeed, but judging from his fit state, I do not think you’d have a living specimen for much longer. Good thing I sent you those measurements ahead of time,” The Captain said crisply and coldly.  
Zola leaned forward, grabbing Bucky’s face and turning his head left and right. Bucky tried weakly to bite the thumb that was pinning his jaw shut, but all that gave him was extra pressure. “Did you get the parts for my machine?”  
“All but one, but that will arrive to be picked up in three days.”  
Bucky did not like the sound of that, and he tried valiantly to shake Zola off before Zola shoved a cloth into his face.  
“Well, then we don’t have much time if we want our specimen to survive. Fortunately our new secret weapon’s prosthetic tail is ready, and will be ours to control.”  
Bucky tried to move and get away, but he sank back into water of his tub and lost conscientiousness, last thing he was aware of was multiple sets of hands tugging Bucky out of the water bin.  
***  
When Steve arrived back to the room, Bucky was gone. His heart tightened in horror, did he miss some vital sign, and left Bucky alone to die?!  
No, he spotted a trail of water leading from the bin, to further down a set of stairs, where the food storage was at hand close to the galley which was also by the stairs.  
It was, also if rumor had it, the place close to the brig.  
Quietly Steve snuck down to take a closer look.  
The dark almost hard to see faint puddles caught his eye, and, to make it seem like he had a valid excuse to ward off beatings (if Steve wanted to survive, he had to be smart about when he can strike back), followed the dark creaky wood. The deck and walls down here had been swabbed so often that the smell of tar was putrid, and the wood had been stained an oily hungry black, and reminded Steve faintly of the story of Jonah and the whale from the bible.  
Then the oily coat of tar was penetrated with a sharp penetration of the metallic coppery smell of blood.  
Steve’s stomach whirled and rebelled and Steve had to hold his breath, and had to remind himself of home, of ma’s occasional smell of baked soda bread, or the faint sound of the neighbors down below, or of piercing blue eyes, and a slightly fishy smell.  
Once the nausea had set sided Steve had a horrible thought.  
Oh god! What did they do to Bucky!  
“Surgery is complete, now to see if it takes. Rub the alcohol on the surgical sight and we’ll need to clean up the blood. Burn the tail, we don’t’ need it anymore,” Zola’s voice barked from a closed door.  
“Sir, what about step two?” one of the lackeys of hydra asked.  
“We need the head piece before we can continue, and we’re going to pick that up in three days’ time.”  
“Yes sir.”  
“Rogers?” a third voice behind Steve barked quietly. And Steve turned around startled to realize he was face to face with Hodge. Hodge who happened to have a bucket and was mopping up the water trail Steve had followed.  
“What are you doing down here,” Steve whispered.  
Hodge looked uncomfortable. “I heard sum ‘thin’.”  
“Hodge, we need to get off this ship,” Steve needed ideas now, and as much as he hated to say it, he and Hodge are on the same boat here.  
The sounds of the cook banging pots and pans together to make the crew’s meal of hard tack and rum somewhat palatable had covered all that was said in this meeting from outside ears.  
“So let me get this straight, you want to get us off this ship in less than three days’ time, where we have no ship, no food, and no idea where we are and where we’re going. Is that about right?” Hodge barked incredulously.  
“Well, if you want to give up and let the crew of the Hydra take over your life, fine by me, but I’m going to get outta here.”  
“But if you leave,” Burnside spoke up from the barrel of apples he was sitting on in the spare storage room close to the galley. “They’re just gonna track you down.”  
“No they won’t,” Steve insisted.  
“They forge paperwork claiming you agreed to come on board this ship, stole your signature even.”  
“But where would they have gotten my---“Steve argued before he remembered signing that picture of Pierce.  
“Charming man, probably shouldn’t have trusted Pierce, his pub didn’t have a reputation of men missing, but most assumed it meant that the men wandered off to a different pub in a less than respectable part of the city,” Hodge sighed.  
“Well, if there are papers, then that means that the Captain must have them, along with a map.”  
“And?”  
“And our way out,” Steve pointed out.  
Hodge and his friends looked at each other suspiciously and whispered amongst themselves before the sense of hope filled their eyes briefly.  
“In that case Rogers, we’ll go with your crazy plan.”  
Steve stuck his hand out, and he watched as Hodge firmly shook it. Steve tried not to wring his hand afterwards, but the handshake hurt.  
***  
Bucky came to feeling hot, dry, itchy, an intense pain from his hips down and along the center of his back, and reached down to message the aching muscles before his fingers were met with metal.  
That was pretty unnerving. Bucky opened his eyes, and looked down in horror, instead of his gleaming dark tail that was ideal for blending into his ocean home, instead was a monstrous metallic monstrosity of a tail below. The plates on the tail were placed in a false mimicry of his tails muscular structure and his scales where gone. Without thinking he mentally commanded his tail to move.  
The metallic tail twitched much like that of a merman’s tail.  
Bucky was gonna be sick.  
“Buck?” came a faint whisper, and it was then Bucky realized that the light was too low for his human captors to see, but low enough to give him and Steve the advantage.  
“Steve?” Bucky whispered. His mind trying to think of a way for them to get out of here, but Bucky began to think that perhaps it had already been too late. Steve helped ease him onto the crate next to Bucky’s tub, and by Bucky did most of the work pulling himself up with his strong upper body.  
“Are you okay?”  
No.  
“I’m fine Steve.”  
“Okay, okay stupid question,” Steve whispered.  
Something in Bucky’s face must have shown the absolute pain and horror on his face, because Steve sat next to Bucky on the crate and gently pulled Bucky closer into a hug.  
Bucky recognized it for what it was, and pulled himself closer to Steve, his eyes resting on Steve’s shoulder as he let go and began to cry. Steve held in close and gently nuzzled his nose into Bucky’s neck and began to whisper kind and gentle reassurances. Once Bucky let his tears out, he took a slow breath.  
“Did you know they were going to do this?” Bucky replied in a broken whisper.  
“What? No, I didn’t, but the guys and I have a plan, and when the time is right, we’ll get out of here. I just wanted to know when the time comes if you’ll be able to swim to freedom.”  
Bucky looked Steve in the pale beautiful eyes and felt some of his panic and despair weakens a little. Steve really believed this was going to work.  
“Give me a few days to get this tail going and we’ll see.”  
“Okay, but we only have two days, that enough time for you,” Steve said.  
“It’ll have to be,” Bucky smiled with that.  
“Great, well in this case, have this,” Steve placed into Bucky’s hands a small dark little fruit with a seam down the middle.  
“What is it.?”  
“That’s a plum, I mean I know my mom’s stories said you’re only supposed to give mermen apples, but the cook was using them so I couldn’t smuggle any apples out without drawing attention.”  
Bucky took a bite, it was a mix of sweet, sour and tangy and the bright yellow fruit on the inside just sang on his tongue and down his throat.  
“This is amazing,” Bucky whispered reverently. He took another bite and his teeth clicked on a little brown stone on the inside, and the stone tumbled out and onto Bucky’s new tail with a quiet clank.  
“What was that?” Bucky asked.  
“Oh, that’s the fruit’s pit, or stone,” Steve answered, reaching down to pick it up off of Bucky’s lap.  
“What does it do?” The fruit had to have that there for a reason.  
“You plant it in the ground and another plum tree grows in its place.”  
“Amazing,” Bucky chuckled decided not to ask what a “tree” was, and when Steve tried to pass the stone back, Bucky put his hands over Steve’s and whispered “Keep it. You’re going to need the tree when we get out of here.”  
“No, you keep it.” Steve whispered, and with colossal effort, Steve and Bucky managed to heave the metallic monstrosity back into Bucky’s tub, the only good thing about it was the tub had been filled with fresh water which was a miracle to Bucky’s nose.  
The sounds of the Captain shouting on deck meant that whatever free chance Steve took was now over, so Steve sadly stepped away from the tub.  
“See ya Bucky,” Steve whispered solemnly.  
Bucky waved, inhaling the fresh sea water in his lungs and filtering them with his long neglected gills, and with serious concentration, began swimming laps around the tub, clockwise ten laps, then counter clockwise ten laps, and so on. Steve was going to need Bucky at his strongest, so he swam until he was too tired to move forward, pushing through the pain with a new hope in his heart.  
It wasn’t until Bucky pulled his head above the water to rest, when he realized there was a bundle of plums within reach of Bucky, with a label saying “Plums to build up your strength, Steve.”  
Bucky smiled and accepted the gift of plums with great affection for the small man.  
***  
“Did you get the forms?” Steve whispered to Hodge as the man approached him.  
“I got them right here. Now are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Hodge growled back at Steve.  
“We need to destroy those, and we’re going to need wicks to set off the crates of weevil-infested flour barrels if we want the diversion to make our escape,” Steve explained by pointing at the exact barrels of flour that He and Burnside discovered and moved earlier that day before Steve discovered the barrel of plums.  
“You sure you got all this planned? To the T?” Hodge asked suspiciously.  
“It’ll work,” Steve insisted. “One last change of plans though.”  
“What?”  
“I got us a guide, someone to help us get outta here alive. Or at least talk to the ones who know these seas. And we’re going to need to get him out before we set off the flour.”  
“You’re not talking about that mermaid are you!? Are you mad?” Hodge exclaimed between his teeth, just barely keeping the volume low enough to prevent themselves from being heard.  
“I am, and he’s a merman.”  
“That’s even worse, didn’t your ma tell you the stories about those people? They bring bad luck and feast on human flesh, even Rumlow’s afraid of ‘em”  
“Yes, my Ma told me all about them, and he is not a man eater,” Steve defended. “I’ve seen him eat fish and plums.”  
“That doesn’t mean anything.”  
“Look, this plan will work, and it will work with Bucky’s help.”  
“Who the hell is—you named that creature!” Hodge turned pale.  
“I didn’t name him, he told me his name himself.”  
Steve could have sworn he heard Hodge mutter “madness” under his breath. But if they were to get out of here, he needed Hodge’s cooperation.  
“Look if you’re going to give up, or back out, now’s the time, I won’t judge you for it,” Steve said, trying to keep the hypocritical judgement tone out of his voice.  
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it, but you’re going to be the one to working with that mer-creature, and if you get eaten, don’t come crying to me,” Hodge muttered and with that, he left without another word.  
***  
Bucky was ready when Steve arrived, looking grim and nervous, and Bucky knew that look meant that it wasn’t going to be easy, and until Bucky was in the ocean, that meant that Bucky had to be dependent upon Steve to transport him.  
“Okay, you ready Buck?” Steve whispered, and Bucky hoisted himself up for Steve to help ease him down, Bucky helping by pushing himself up off of the floor, but Bucky could still hear Steve grunt and strain under him as Steve gently settled him into what looked like a web of netting set between two poles.  
“Burnside and I will pull you up the stairs on this thing when Hodge gives the signal,” Steve whispered as he grabbed the poles and began to pull.  
Bucky felt himself slide, and Steve stopped to pant at the door to the room, glance around and gesture to a man outside the door.  
“Burnside, where have you been?” Steve asked in a hushed voice.  
“Busy, Hodge has already gotten the flour barrels set up.”  
“Good, help me with this.”  
The other human wearily grabbed the pole, and both men sat in the shadows.  
A loud ruckus bang filled the air from below deck.  
“Wait for it, wait for it,” Steve whispered as Burnside almost pulled Bucky’s pole out into the hallway.  
Already members of the crew were rushing down to investigate the room below. They were screaming something about the food storage room below the galley, whatever that meant to Bucky.  
“Alright, let’s go,” Steve ordered.  
Bucky could see the other human look at him wearily before pulling his side of the poles and Bucky was along for the ride.  
Out in the hall, Bucky saw what looked like a series of orderly placed jagged edges leading up to what might be freedom and the starry night sky. Both men began pulling the contraption and both had reached to top and were about to pull Bucky up when they heard another sound.  
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rumlow shouted from across the deck.  
As Rumlow approached, Burnside dropped his pole and bolted across the deck.  
This didn’t stop Rumlow from approaching Steve or Bucky. Steve got into position ready to fight, and Rumlow smirked.  
“Well, well, looks like I’ll have to report this to the captain,” He remarked, and Steve took a swing at him.  
This wasn’t as effective, as Rumlow swung back and decked Steve hard.  
Bucky, realizing that he himself was in a vulnerable position, and not that much help to Steve if he was stuck in the stairs, began to pull him out.  
Steve swung on his feet, but Bucky could see that Steve was use to these kinds of fights. He swung at Rumlow again.  
Bucky then noticed that Rumlow took a step back, and if he took about five more steps, Bucky could help Steve take Rumlow down.  
Bucky tried to communicate with Steve, but Steve didn’t see his gestures. So Bucky might have to play guide.  
Quietly Bucky began to move behind Rumlow, reaching forward and pulling his arms forward, grunting with the gigantic effort of moving his new tail into following behind him.  
Steve, probably on instinct, had managed to get Rumlow to move a few steps back, mostly by ducking under Rumlow’s powerful punches and adding a few of his own, causing Rumlow to step back to give a better swing.  
And at the last moment, Steve punched Rumlow in the face, and Bucky swept his feet out from under Rumlow, causing him to fall over the railing and into the ocean below. Steve leaned over the railing, and Bucky stuck his head though the railing, but all they could see was the ocean churning below before Rumlow poked his head out, and caught some of the debris from the earlier explosion.  
“Buck,” Steve remarked before Bucky looked at the width of the railing compared to the dimensions of his body.  
“I think I’ve got this Steve, you get to the lifeboat.”  
“Do you think you can guide us to land?”  
Bucky snorted, “Steve, if I can smell my way home from here, I can smell your way onto land.”  
“Right,” Steve finished sheepishly.  
“Oh, one final thing, Steve, come down here.”  
Steve knelt until his face was level with Bucky’s and Bucky could look into his eyes, he leaned forward and before Bucky could lose his nerve, whispered. “Can I kiss you?”  
Steve nodded with a smile, and Bucky leaned forward.  
“For luck,” he whispered, and captured Steve’s lips with his own, gently cupping the back of Steve’s head with his palm. It was like kissing a winter storm, Bucky decided before sounds caused the kiss to part too soon.  
“See ya Steve,” Bucky whispered, wiggled between the railing, and let gravity take him home.  
It was like coming alive again. He could hear all the sounds around him, from the creaking of the sinking ship, the desperate kicking of Rumlow that would get him to safety. He could smell the ocean, the distant trails of schools of fish, whales, sharks, and other merfolk. The range he could see, smell, touch and taste was undamped.  
Then he dove under the ship and rose up to the side with the lifeboat, it took a lot of effort to get his tail to move as he wish, but he had spent days trying to adjust to his tail, so instead of sinking, he was moving forward, he was moving in a semi-controllable motion.  
Bucky’s head broke the surface only to realize things weren’t all according to plan.  
The lifeboat was moving away from the ship, but judging by all the yelling, Steve wasn’t on it.  
Steve began yelling at Burnside something about how his descendants will look like mules, something Bucky wasn’t sure Steve had the power to control, of course some of those dirty swear words might have been magical spell words, Bucky wasn’t human so he didn’t know, maybe humans did have that power.  
Bucky inhaled air so he could shout above the surface, hoping that Steve would see him and jump to freedom.  
An extremely loud bang filled the air, and Steve clutched his left arm before he collapsed. Bucky dove forward as Steve hit the water, and realizing someone might be looking, so Bucky dove under the surface and followed the scent of blood, his stomach churned when he realized it was Steve’s blood.  
Bucky reached Steve, and before he could think of much else, tried to kiss the wound, it stopped the bleeding a little but it didn’t heal the wound completely, there was something inside that was stuck inside.  
And Steve needed air.  
Bucky glanced at the surface; it was getting too far away to safely rise quickly, so Buck had to make an angled ascent to prevent nitrogen bubbles from forming in Steve’s veins. Steve’s head broke the surface a good distance away, the darkness concealed them.  
“You okay Steve?” Bucky asked, and Steve just coughed. It was when Steve managed to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder that Bucky was reassured that Steve was going to be okay.  
Steve and Bucky glanced around and all they saw were dark ocean waves and an approaching dawn. The ship and the lifeboat were nowhere to be seen  
***  
Bucky didn’t spend much time reveling in his new found freedom, as Steve was entirely dependent upon Bucky and debris to stay alive. Bucky spent hours scouting around Steve’s impromptu raft made of broken ship beams, cursing the men Steve had been shanghaied with as they didn’t stick around long enough to take Steve with them.  
In the end Bucky was once again searching open water, when something caught his attention from the depths.  
Down below in the low light, he saw movement or rather the negative space of movement surrounded by some flash of silver before some of the silver were engulfed by a movement of black. Then a red marking flashed up from below before the creature turned and the marking disappeared.  
“Hello?”  
The dark creature froze and glanced up.  
Smoothly and gracefully the creature ascended and Bucky got a good at her. It was a Kraken, half mer-woman half octopus with smooth skin which Bucky to see had shifted into the dark waters of the deep for more ideal camouflage. Her tentacles were coiled together to keep her catch contained by the suckers. Her penetrating green eyes surveyed Bucky quite closely. Her hair, Bucky noticed was extended to look more like a blood red halo around her head. At her navel he also noticed what might have attracted the attention of the fish in the deep as she had a red hourglass like marking. Her face, for easier facial communication was made paler to take advantage of the low light of the depth.  
“Hey, you called?” She looked at Bucky, her eyes darting to his tail and back at his face, her eyes also closely looking at the slowly healing surgical wounds Bucky had on his body.  
“I need to find some land or a ship,” Bucky replied.  
“Odd request from someone who clearly suffered trauma from human hands and especially from a person whose race is more than happy to avoid contact from the surface, or humans in general,” The Kraken remarked smoothly.  
“Please, there’s a good man, he saved me, and he needs help.”  
Something in his tone must have stroked her interest because she released her fish and simply said “Show me.”  
Bucky lead her to the two wooden beams that might have once been a series of planks that Steve must have swabbed, and heard the sound of teeth clicking rapidly. This was not a natural sound, but it did sound like what his mother would do to catch his attention as a fry.  
“We don’t have much time,” The Kranin remarked. “Unlike us, humans die of temperature shock much faster than we can, even faster in water.”  
“How do you know all this?” Bucky asked.  
“You’re extremely lucky you came across me, and we’ll leave it at that for now. Your friend doesn’t have time for a lengthy explanation,” She snapped quickly.  
Bucky rose quickly.  
“Steve, I’ve got help.”  
Bucky was surprised to notice that the surface was covered in dark clouds and the wind had a biting chill he hadn’t noticed earlier, complete with the water turning grey and the wind forming choppy waves that seemed to grow larger.  
Steve wasn’t looking so well either. His teeth were clicking quickly, his skin was starting to appear paler and redder and while Steve smiled softly at the sight, the complete lethargy was more than enough to alarm Bucky.  
A black tentacle attached to the side of the raft.  
“This way, come on.”  
“Buck…” Steve whispered as Bucky grabbed onto the raft and began to pull in the same direction as the Kraken.  
“We’re getting you some help. Just hold on, wouldn’t want you to up and die on me after all we’ve been though.”  
“……Jerk.”  
“Punk.”  
“Keep up the banter, we need him awake,” The Kraken ordered, so Bucky began to talk. He talked about his mother, his father, his sisters and even customs of his people he missed. He told stories about how the first mermaid was created to protect her unborn children from her lover’s wife after he had been assassinated and she used the power of sea foam to ensure she wouldn’t be pursued. Steve made weak responses such as “That’s great Bucky,” or “I’m listening.”  
Eventually Natasha lead Bucky to a large ship that happened to be a few miles off, the speed of their swimming got them to the side of the ship before Steve lost consciousness.  
“Captain! We have guests!” A man from the deck of the metal ship shouted before a rope was tossed down to their level. “Ah Natasha, what did you drag along this time?”  
“Later, Clint,” Natasha smirked at the man before her face took a more serious expression and gently tucked her arms over Steve’s skinny body and using the rope and her suckers to scale the wall of the ship, leaving Bucky alone in the water below.  
He watched helplessly as Steve and the Kraken disappeared over the edge of the ship’s railing.  
***  
Steve woke up warm and smelling vaguely of antiseptic. He paused when he realized he was warm and lying on a bed. He tried to sit up, but he heard what sounded like someone putting an object down onto a table and ushering him back onto the bed.  
“Hush now my boy, you are safe here.”  
The German accent made Steve wrench open his eyes, but it wasn’t Arnim Zola or Johann Schmidt looking back at him. Instead it was an older gentleman with salt and pepper partially bald hair and beard, looking at Steve with the gentlest expression.  
“At ease, you are safe here. Welcome on board the S.S.R Shield. You’ve been asleep for almost two days, we were worried you were going to miss Christmas, but lucky for you, it’s Christmas eve.”  
Steve blinked.  
“And your full name young man? I am Dr. Abraham Erskine” The gentleman asked.  
“Steve Rogers.” Steve answered. “What happened to the... people I arrived with?”  
“Your friend Mr. Rogers is awaiting your covalence and he will be pleased to see you awake. He’s currently with some of our mer-folk representatives getting acquainted with them,” Dr. Erskine told him kindly.  
“Can I see him?” Steve asked.  
“As your doctor, I cannot recommend that, but if you are willing to follow my directions and pass my tests I do not see a reason to tell you no,” Dr. Erskine replied sternly and he pulled out a small light and brought up his fingers. Steve’s eyes followed them, and Steve patiently, but not fondly, went through the check up’s paces. He grew up being raised by a nurse, but it’d be a long time coming before he ever actually enjoyed being poked and prodded by a doctor.  
When Steve had finished his examination, a set of clicking heels entered the room, and in entered two beautiful women, and behind them a man in soot stained pair of overalls and a high quality but greatly stained shirt.  
“I’m telling you Pep; I can make a filtration system so Twenty-thousand Leagues can be on board this ship and still have fresh sea water to breathe if he wanted to be so close to Boy Wonder here any time he wanted. It’d be easy and a way to reuse that charcoal.” The man replied.  
“Tony,” sighed the second woman who entered, a very pretty strawberry blonde woman with a surprisingly well tailored pantsuit remarked with a patient tone Steve knew from some of the nurses his mother worked with when he was younger.  
“Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark, please,” The first woman, a beautiful brunet woman with sharp brown eyes interrupted and the other two people quieted with a silent “Yes captain," responses.  
“Greetings Mr. Rogers is it? I am Captain Margaret Carter, and welcome on board my ship. Here with me is Mr. Stark, our head engineer and financier of this expedition, and his assistant Ms. Potts,” The first woman introduced herself.  
“Thank you Captain Carter,” Steve said.  
Captain Carter’s eyes glinted happily. “You gave our coronal quite a start when he realized you had disappeared on us, but we are quite happy and fortunate that you turned up right on our metaphorical doorstep. I believe you are the artist we hired to keep track of all the diagrams we’ll need on this expedition?”  
“Yes,” Steve answered happily.  
“Good, now onto the matter of the merman awaiting word from you, I take it if the doctor clears you for visits, you may, accompany by a doctor or a nurse of course, so that you may see him. And you will be joining us for Christmas dinner of course?”  
“Of course Captain Carter,” Steve answered.  
“And he is cleared for a visit so long as he stays in the wheelchair,” Dr. Erskine said as he wrote something down on the clipboard he pulled out from the end of Steve’s bed.  
“Very well then.”  
A wheelchair was brought into the room.  
“I don’t really have to ride in that thing, do I?” Steve asked.  
“I’m afraid so Mr. Rogers,” Erskine answered gently, and Steve outweighed the benefits of walking on foot to visit Bucky, a verse being carted around the wheelchair and after an attempt to stand up was ushered into the chair, and Steve decided to just follow his doctor’s orders for once. Steve will try walking again soon.  
Steve noticed quickly that the steam ship appeared more differently than the wooden ship he had been on before, the walls were crisply painted white and the grey floors were slightly textured for a stable walking on rough seas.  
Steve was driven to the deck of the ship, and saw that Bucky was waiting for him on a swing brought up from the ocean. His metal tail shimmered in the light as the water dripped off the tail, his bright blue eyes were open and earnest in their affection, and he was clutching something in his hands.  
Steve beamed and clutched the two layers of blankets closer to him.  
“Bucky, you’re okay.”  
“I should be saying the same thing, you scared me out there Steve.”  
“I’m fine,” In fact when Steve would be inevitably steered back into the room, he was going to insist on working if part and he could very simply draw in the bed as well as anywhere else.  
“I’m sure,” Bucky softly smiled, and leaned forward.  
Steve leaned closer too.  
“So, I’ve been told about this holiday called Christmas,” Bucky said.  
“Yeah, it’s a holiday where the son of God was born to a virgin and he saved humanity from their own sin. It’s a long story,” Steve began.  
“I’ve got time, after all, I did tell you about my people’s origins,” Bucky was smirking now.  
“You did?”  
“Well, you were kind of freezing to death at the time, but I’m willing to tell it to you again if you want.”  
“I would,” Steve agreed.  
“But first, I was told this was a holiday about gift giving, so I got you something in return for those plums,” Bucky held out his hands, and Steve reached out to receive it.  
It was a gorgeous oyster shell that was grey and wrinkled on top, but on the bottom were layers of shimmering silver and golden mother of pearl with a few half formed pearls attached.  
“Bucky, this is beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”  
Bucky grinned and held up the plum pit. “Just keep it, and we’ll use this to grow our own plum tree. Whatever a tree is.”  
“I like the sound of that,” Steve could imagine it now and then realized that if they were to plant the plum, it’d take years before it could produce fruit.  
“Uh Buck… Trees take a long time to grow.”  
Bucky laughed. “Yeah, I asked about that. Turns out, Natasha is not the only mer creature who lives alongside this ship. There’s a Nastaline named Thor who swore his heart to one of the scientists on board, and Natasha owes her life to the navigator of this boat,” Bucky then gestured to Clint, who was of talking to Natasha further down the deck.  
“What are you saying, Bucky?”  
“I’m saying Steve, If you want to that job they keep talking about on this ship, I’ll stay. I’m far away from my parents’ trench, but this ship will swing by, and I’d like to visit them some day.”  
“I’d like that,” Steve smiled, and Bucky swung his swing slightly forward and caught Steve in a searing kiss.  
“No take backs now, because if you commit, I’m with you to the end of the line,” and with that Bucky winked.  
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” A brown haired woman with a lab coat stepped out. “I was told that you might want Christmas Dinner,” And behind her was a cart with a plate covered in ham, mashed potatoes, and a slice of apple pie and cider for Steve, and a plate of salmon for Bucky.  
“Thank you,” Steve replied, and Bucky quickly dug into the salmon slices, closing his eyes and relishing the taste.  
“That good huh?” Steve asked from behind his cider mug.  
“Yes, it’s been a really long time since I’ve had salmon,” Bucky sighed.  
“I can see that,” Steve chuckled, and then he looked up when something cold brushed his nose.  
“Oh! Look Bucky, it’s snowing!” Steve exclaimed, and Bucky looked up to stare at the white swirling flakes slowly coming down from the sky.  
“Whoa, I’ve never seen this,” Bucky breathed.  
“It’s called snow; it snows every winter for back home in Brooklyn.”  
“It’s beautiful.”  
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “It is,” Then Steve looked at Bucky and saw how beautiful he was in his joy and finished with “And Bucky?”  
“Yes?”  
“I’m with you to the end of the line too.”  
“Thanks, punk.”  
“You’re welcome, jerk.”  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> Special shout out to Riakomai and her drawing: http://riakomai.tumblr.com/post/153906355804/i-had-a-dream-some-time-back-about-merman-bucky  
> No seriously, please check out her work, it's amazing!  
> Once again, thank you so much for reading this, let me know if there's anything I can improve upon. I also have a tumblr if anyone wanted to check that out, you can find me at http://queenoftherandomword.tumblr.com/


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